Dictionary
by xXsilentxwhisperXx
Summary: A collection of drabbles inspired by words, lyrics, titles, and quotes.
1. Acromania

**Title:** Acromania  
**Word Count:** 371  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters/Pairings:** Kon, Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia  
**Warnings:** None  
**Summary:** Ichigo always knew just a bit more than he let on.  
**A/N: **My poor attempt at a humor fic. Please feel free to shoot me. This came while I was staring at my bulletin board and saw one of the Post-Its I had pinned up of "acromania" and its definition. It could have been much worse, if that counts for anything. I could have actually _tried_ to make it funny.

* * *

"What's a nine letter word for 'extreme madness'?" 

Ichigo looked up from his English homework, startled by the strange question. "The hell if I know," he replied with a scowl. "Why?"

Rukia frowned, her eyebrows furrowing together in concentration. "It's this damn puzzle," she told him. "I don't have much left and I just need this one word for everything to fall into place."

"So look it up."

"That would take too long," she whined.

"Then you're screwed, I guess."

He looked like he was about to say something else, but he was interrupted by Kon slamming open the window and jumping on Rukia, screaming, "Nee-san!"

Rukia responded by crushing the stuffed lion under her heel.

"You're both psychotic," Ichigo muttered, turning back to his homework.

"What was that?" Ichigo blanched as he heard Rukia's voice, poisonously sweet, in his ear.

"I said, try 'psychotic'," he replied.

"Oh." She brightened considerably. She neatly wrote the letters into her crossword puzzle then huffed in frustration. "It fits, but it's not right! I'm done with this stupid thing!" She threw the pencil down and dodged Kon as he tried to gain access to her 'valley of the gods' again.

"Okay then," he muttered, putting away his homework and turning his attention to the shinigami and mod soul currently destroying a corner of his bedroom.

Ichigo was still awake when his two roommates finally stopped bickering and retired. Curious, he snatched the puzzle book off of his bed and flipped to the back. When he found the particular puzzle that Rukia had been working on, he smirked.

He turned back to the puzzle and in the nine remaining blanks scribbled the word "ACROMANIA" in large, unruly letters.

**  
**


	2. Necromancy

**Title:** Necromancy  
**Word Count: **255**  
Rating:** PG  
**Characters:** Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia, mentioned Shiba Kaien  
**Warnings: **Mild spoilers for the Soul Society arc  
**Summary: **Necromancy was foolish...Right?  
**A/N: **Yay for one word inspiration! Anyways, yeah. This will be the first in a start of drabbles and stuff that I'm doing in preparation for NaNoWriMo in November. Yes, I do actually have to start getting warmup stuff in January. Don't ask. Anyways, I'm relatively pleased with the way this one turned out. It could have been better, but it's serving its purpose. Reviews of all shapes, sizes, and temperatures accepted!!

* * *

She was no idiot. She was all too aware that the dead could not be brought back to life. Necromancy was a foolish concept, indulged by deluded weaklings. But that did not stop her from wishing with all her heart that she could reverse what she had done, that she could bring back her first love.

But she couldn't, so she was content with deadening herself, slowly killing her soul. It was a fitting price to pay—a heart for a life.

And then he came along and changed everything. A force to be reckoned with, his cocky smirk and flaming hair merely outward signs of his inner fire. The inner fire that was slowly breathing life back into her own frozen soul.

Every fight she watched threatened to break her again and again. Perhaps he knew this, though she was never sure whether or not this was a conscious knowledge. Regardless, he always made sure to come out alive, made sure that she remained whole.

And then one night, as they sat on his roof and enjoyed the simple knowledge that they had managed to survive as long as they had, she heard him sigh and change position. When she looked over, he was laying down, gaze directed at the heavens.

She joined him, and a shooting star passed over them. She pointed it out with awe and felt him chuckle beside her.

Rukia sighed contentedly and scooted closer to him, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Ichigo could actually practice the ancient art of necromancy.

**  
**


	3. The Things They Carried

**Title:** The Things They Carried  
**Word Count:** 296  
**Rating: **PG  
**Characters:** Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia  
**Warnings: **None  
**Summary:** The things they carried were things unseen.  
**A/N: **Inspired by the title of Tim O'Brien's collection of Vietnam short stories, _The Things They Carried_. I really have no idea where the hell this came from. Probably my boredom in English class, or my inability to read along with a group. Whatever. Reviews of all shapes, sizes, languages (although I would definitely prefer English), and temperatures welcomed, and much desired.

* * *

The things they carried were things unseen, buried so deeply that at times it was thought that they didn't even exist.

During the day, it was easy to push these burdens away, to hide them behind work and school and ghosts and Hollows. At night, however, it was harder. Night, when all was still and peaceful and quiet.

It was the quiet that drove her insane. The absolute silence in the dark that threatened to overwhelm her, to break her carefully crafted and maintained façade of strength and indifference.

He found the quiet to be soothing, but the stillness irked him. The stale, stagnant atmosphere was almost too much for him, a reminder of his inability to move to protect those he held dear.

Nothing was constant except for themselves, and even then, consistency was debatable. She was dead, and he almost died far too often for life to be dependable. So they hold onto each other with an increasingly tighter grip, together shouldering burdens that were too heavy to bear.

And when her silence became too deafening, he would shout, argue, talk, anything, just to take that dead, haunted look from her eyes. Likewise, when his stillness became too much, threatening to suffocate him, she would deliver a well-placed kick to the back of the head. Not to hurt him, never to hurt, just to ease the constricted panic from his face.

Others told them that this behavior was unhealthy, and silently, they agreed. But it was the only thing they knew to do, so they continued, ignoring the well-intentioned advice of others.

It would take time, but that was okay. Time was a commodity of which they would not run short. And slowly, painfully, piece by piece, let go of the things they carried.


	4. Juxtaposition

**Title: **Juxtaposition  
**Word Count: **436  
**Rating: **PG  
**Characters/Pairings: **Ishida Uryuu, Kurosaki Ichigo  
**Warnings: **Vague spoilers for the Soul Society arc  
**Summary: **Perhaps they really weren't all that different  
**A/N: **Yes, that is indeed a bit of IshiHime. You just have to squint to see it. This was by request for TFKeyes.

* * *

They were as different as night and day. One was bright, like the sun, bathing everything in a warm glow, in spite of his inner shadows. The other was dark, outer cold masking his tentative light.

One was bold, brash, and rude, the other quiet, polite, and subtle. One would die for those he cared for, the other would live on in agonized remembrance. One would work himself literally to death in order to gain the strength he needed to protect, the other did it to avenge the memory of a long-dead mentor. One fought to cleanse and release, the other to capture and kill.

But somehow, the partnership worked. They were effective, and somehow, one's stupidity was balanced out by the other's common sense. So when one lost the only thing keeping him grounded, the other sighed and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and asked when they were leaving.

And when one burst into another dimension with the intent of completely obliterating anything in his way, the other held him back, reminded him that if they wanted to get Kuchiki-san back, they needed a plan.

So when one rashly sacrificed his power in a last ditch effort to keep Inoue safe, the other was shocked, and more than a little impressed. And it occurred to Kurosaki Ichigo that, when placed side by side, despite the differences in their methods, he and Ishida Uryuu really weren't all that different.


	5. Extramural

**Title:** Extramural  
**Word Count: **257  
**Rating: **PG  
**Characters/Pairings: **Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia  
**Warnings/Spoilers: **Vague spoilers for the Soul Society arc  
**Summary: **Rukia often wonders if things might have been better for him.  
**A/N: **Meh, I'm not super happy with the way this ended. Inspired by watching a friend study for her vocab test. Word: "Extramural."

* * *

She told him once that she could not step into his heart without getting it dirty, and as such would stay out. Somewhere along theway, those words were either discarded or forgotten-- or perhaps both-- by him, and she now inhabited a nice little niche in that once forbidden place. 

He may have forgotten, but she has not. Sometimes, curled up beside him, she wonders if things would have been better for him if she had never carved that place for herself, if she had just stayed outside.

Because as much as she hates it, the night she slipped into his life was also the night he crashed into hers, and she needs him. She doesn't want to admit it, even to herself, because doing so would be admitting a near fatal weakness. Even in death, she had almost died for him, though the second time had not been her choice.

She knows that he would, unequivocally, do the same for her, and this is perhaps even more disturbing. She doesn't know what would happen to her if she had to live through a death like that again. And she knows that if she died, it would kill him. After all, there is no after after-life, no chance to see a dead dead girl again.

But every time the thought comes into her head, when she wonders if she should have just remained outside of the walls of his heart, he is there to remind her just why she stays. And as he pulls her closer to him, unconsciously seeking the comfort she provides, Rukia decides that it's all worth it.

**A/N: **It just occurred to me that I haven't been putting the headings on these things like I should, which is not good, given the fact that I'm now branching out into other pairings, sort of. Oops...


	6. Innocence

**Title: **Innocence  
**Word Count: **436  
**Rating: **PG13  
**Characters/Pairings:** Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Rukia, Kurosaki Ichigo, Shiba Kaien  
**Warnings/Spoilers: **SS arc backstory, rampant speculation, vague mentions of sex?  
**Summary: **On Rukia's innocence, or lackthereof  
**A/N: **So this just started off as a bit of speculation going on the assumption that Rukia isn't anywhere near as virgin as everyone thinks. And I really like KaienxRukia. They don't get nearly enough love.

* * *

Most people living in Seireitei were under the impression that Rukia was the embodiment of innocence, second only to Hinamori in her naivety. Rukia was not inclined to correct them, but there were a few who knew that she was no sweet virgin.

Her first time had been almost accidental, just an attempt to keep warm on the freezing streets of the Seventy-Ninth District. It had worked, and for the first time in her memory, Rukia and Renji had actually been hot during the harsh Rukongai winter. To her, it had been a last-ditch effort to stay warm, but to Renji, it had been something much more important, much more special.

Her second had been with Shiba Kaien. This time, however, it was for an entirely different reason. Instead of physical comfort, it was emotional which Rukia sought, and when she once would have gone to her childhood best friend, she now turned to her loud-mouthed fukutaichou.

This time too, had been unplanned. It was the night after her first mission to the real world, a mission which had gone hopelessly wrong. They had been too late to save the plus, and their Hollow had been clever, wounding several before finally being destroyed by Kotetsu Kiyone. Unfortunately, it was not before Rukia learned just what lay behind the leering white mask.

She was fully aware that she shouldn't have given in, that, as her Nii-sama was so fond of demonstrating, emotions were for the weak. But Kaien had saved her from drowning in her own loneliness, and she had repayed him by taking his life. There was nothing in her actions that made her deserving of the praise she received, and so she retreated inside of herself, fully intending to never allow herself near another human being.

Then one night, an orange-haired human barged into her life and once again she was faced with a terrible choice. But this time, there was a third option. As, for the second time in her life, Rukia slid her then-unnamed Sode no Shirayuki into a person's chest, she prayed that this time the outcome would be different.

And different it was. That night, Rukia gained first a partner, then a best friend, and finally a lover. Ichigo was not Kaien or Renji, but rather some mix of both personalities combined with something much else besides. And Ichigo, unlike Kaien, had already been posessed by a Hollow, and dammit, he had won. Unlike Renji, he answered to no one but himself. He was one of the only constants in her life, and she in his. And if there was one thing she was certain of, in the midst of this madness called Arrancar, it was that she would never be let down by her Strawberry.


	7. Tis to a Murderer's Den You've Come

**Title:** 'Tis to a Murderer's Den You've Come  
**Word Count: **634  
**Rating: **PG13  
**Characters/Pairings:** Kusajishi Yachiru, Zaraki Kenpachi  
**Warnings: **Mild language, spoilers for the Soul Society arc backstory  
**Summary: **Nobody quite understood their relationship  
**A/N: **Inspired by Grimm's Fairy Tales, "The Robber Bridegroom". I absolutely _love_ the Eleventh Division, especially Ken-chan and Yachiru, and I've wanted to write them for quite a while, but haven't been able to get the proper inspiration. Hopefully this isn't too OOC.

* * *

They were, without a doubt, the strangest pair in Seireitei, even for all of the bizarre occupants of Soul Society. 

He was a monster, they said, and if he was honest with himself, he couldn't help but agree. A murderer of the worst kind, a demon who fought and killed for the mere pleasure of it, that's what he was.

She was an angel, the pink-haired poster child for youthful innocence. Admittedly, she could be a bit irritating at times, but she didn't realize what she was doing, they reasoned. Many of her subordinates would beg to differ. According to that particular faction of men, the little bitch knew exactly what she was doing. But they were all thugs who drank too much and had no manners, so they, therefore, did not count.

So they tried, multiple times, to settle the adorable little girl with a nice, wholesome family in the First or Second district. Each time, however, they were thwarted by bursts of reiatsu so strong that all within a fifty kilometer radius were brought to their knees while she skipped happily away in search of candy.

There were plenty of rumors about how this demon came into possession of the angel-child. Some said he was going to eat her, and just didn't think she was ripe enough. Others insisted that she was intended to be used for target practice, once she was sufficiently large to represent an adult. Those with more perverted inclinations claimed that he was just waiting for her to be old enough to take as a wife.

They never even considered that he might have been lonely, that, monster though he was, he would not harm a child. They did not understand that she was the first person to ever embrace him, accept him without fear. They did not understand the pain of being entirely alone, without a name, or even a zanpakutou to talk to.

They never even considered that she wanted to be with him, that she chose him. They did not understand that she, angel though she was, needed someone to protect her. They did not understand the feeling of warm blood on their hands, even warmer reiatsu washing the constant coldness out of her numb body. They did not understand the joy of knowing that someone would always be completely honest with her, would, always and without fail, be there.

They did not see him the way she did. They did not see the man who often went hungry so that she got enough to eat, even when he needed the food so much more. They did not see the man who kept the nightmares away, who rocked her when she could not sleep, who read her stories late at night.

They did not see the conniving little bitch who was no more angel than himself. They did not see the tantrums she could throw, the sheer amount of damage she could inflict when she wanted to. They had not sat with her through those cold nights on the freezing streets of the slums. They did not know the sacrifices that he had made for her.

But he did, and she did, which was all that mattered. No one could deny that Zaraki Kenpachi truly loved his little fukutaicho daughter. And certainly no one could deny that he was the center of her own small universe.

So when people made snide comments, or asked Kusajishi Yachiru why she continued to stay with her monstrous demon of a father, she would smile sunnily and deliver a perfectly executed right hook and reply, "Because Ken-chan taught me how to do this, silly!"

And when people complained to him, "Ken-chan" would smile wickedly and say, "That's my girl," just the way any proud father should.


	8. Runaway

**Title: **Runaway  
**Word Count:** 401  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters/ Pairings: **Kuchiki Rukia, Mentioned Kurosaki Ichigo and Shiba Kaien  
**Warnings: **Mild spoilers for SS arc  
**Summary:** "Maybe he doesn't have anywhere to run off to..."  
**A/N:** I feel like all of my stuff is getting to be dreadfully similar. Is my format starting to become repetitive and predictable? Is there anything you guys would like to see in this no-longer-so-little collection of mine? I feel like everything is becoming formulated, and I don't like it, so please tell me if there's anything I can change.

* * *

She had spent her life running. First it had been to escape Rukongai. She had worked long and hard to get out of her childhood hellhole, and she did. But the grass was not much greener on the other side of the pristine white wall. 

The only real difference between the Court of Pure Souls and the Seventy-Ninth District was the amount of food. Otherwise, things were pretty much the same. There were still nightmares, people were still assholes, albeit they now hid their personalities with sickening smiles and absurd politeness while in her presence.

So she kept running, but this time, it was mental instead of physical. She ran from people, retreated inside herself, away from her friends and family and tormentors alike, away from disappointment and misplaced pride.

And then she bumped into a man, and for a moment, she paused. The shelter he provided, the resting place she so desperately needed, allowed her to forget about all of the things from which she was running, if only for a moment.

But there was no rest for the weary, and all too soon she was running again, running this time from the guilt of what she had done. So she ran herself ragged, ran until she collapsed, then picked herself up and began the whole cycle again.

Then once again she bumped into someone, though it was much more of a jarring slam than her previous bump. She came face to face with the one that haunted her nightmares, then realized that this boy was not the same person, though they shared a face. So once again she allowed herself to rest.

This time, however, she was prepared for what was to come, and began running on her own terms, before Fate punished her and caused history to repeat itself. But this time was different. This time, she was pursued; it was her worst nightmare and strongest desire combined.

Once again they collided, though this time he ran into her, instead of the other way around. She learned that he needed her almost as much as she needed him, that just as he was her shelter from the violent blizzard called life, so she was his.

She was infinitely grateful to him for that, and as she hovered between two worlds, she came to the conclusion that running was far too overrated for her to keep up the habit.


	9. Red Flag

**Title:** Red Flag  
**Word Count: **314  
**Rating: **PG13  
**Characters:** Abarai Renji, Ayasegawa Yumichika, Hisagi Shuuhei, Kuchiki Byakuya  
**Warnings: **Language  
**Summary: **Ikkaku really shouldn't have been surprised.  
**A/N:** Wow...Sort of yaoi AND thug love all in one go. That's new. Especially the yaoi part. Damn crack pairings...But I did feel like this collection needed a bit of crack, even though this is more like something with a similar consistency and texture as crack.

* * *

After everything was said and done, Ikkaku supposed he should have known. The warning signs were all there, after all.

Yumi was a bit more sparkly than usual, which might have been his first clue. But Ikkaku was a guy, and not a very perceptive one at that, so he chalked it up to the fact that Hisagi had just bought his best friend new shoes.

If he really thought about it, though, he remembered that Kuchiki-taichou had been a bit glowy as well. Not that there was much of a difference. Glowy Kuchiki merely ignored all lesser beings with a slightly less bitchy attitude. It was not enough to be noticed by just anybody, but enough for Ikkaku, who was frequently on the receiving end of Kuchiki-hime's wrath.

As for the subject of speculation himself, there was little change, at first. He was still the same hotheaded fool who thought he could out drink any of them, the same, to use Yumi's word, ignoramus, who worshiped the ground Kuchiki-hime walked on...That was it! The hero-worship that they had mocked him mercilessly for. Something had changed, though Ikkaku couldn't quite pin it down.

He had even gone so far as to ask Hisagi about it; Yumi sure as hell wouldn't tell him. But Yumi had apparently worn off in the Ninth Division fukutaichou, because all Ikkaku got for his pains was Hisagi's knowing grin and the reply that he'd figure it out soon enough.

Yes, Ikkaku thought, when all was said and done, he really shouldn't have been surprised whenever Abarai Renji barged into the Eleventh Division headquarters demanding to see Yumi. And so it was all he could do to keep from laughing his ass off as he restrained his friend when he began screaming about how he was going to kill Yumi goddammit, because the sparkly little fuck had made him gay.


	10. Blame Game

**Title: **Blame Game  
**Word Count: **383  
**Rating:** PG13  
**Characters:** Abarai Renji, Ayasegawa Yumichika, Hisagi Shuuhei, Hitsugaya Toushirou, Kusajishi Yachiru, Matsumoto Rangiku, Zaraki Kenpachi  
**Warnings: **Mild language, vague sexual references  
**Summary: **It was all Matsumoto's fault.  
**A/N:** Companion piece to Red Flag...I really don't know where the sudden flux of vaguely yaoi crack is coming from. Oh well. Hitsugaya's in this one! Anyways, I'm relatively certain that this is WAY OOC, but it's supposed to be crack-ish, so I think that's alright.

* * *

If asked, Hisagi Shuuhei and Abarai Renji would say it was all Matsumoto's fault. She, they reasoned, had absolutely ruined them for other women, even if it had been only one night and all three of them were so drunk that no one remembered the incident anyway.

Matsumoto, of course, denied ever having done anything with either of them, let alone both in the same night, and said it was due to Yumichika's influence. At this, everyone, including Yumi himself, had to agree that his gayness did have a way of affecting anybody not wholly immune to it; that is to say, anybody not female, Ikkaku, or Zaraki-taichou.

Yumi, however, scoffed prettily and said it was Nature's doing. So the blame fell upon Hitsugaya, who, with his ability to control the weather, seemed like the next best thing, given that Nature was not herself a physical being.

Hitsugaya sent them both running with a twitch of his eyebrow, wondering how such utter imbeciles had ever managed to make it to the rank of lieutenant.

But, by the twisted logic possessed by only a select few residents of Seireitei, the fact that Nature had made them gay only served to further their argument that it was all Matsumoto's fault.

According to them, it was Nature that had given her such absurdly huge boobs, and as such, Nature had caused her to ruin them for other, less gifted members of her sex.

But while this somehow made perfect sense to them, the revelation had elicited blank stares from all involved parties, Hitsugaya included.

They would have continued this line of thought, determined as they were to prove their masculinity, had not Zaraki, tired of all the whining, finally sent Yachiru out to intervene.

She had smacked them both, rather hard, and then gone to perch on Ikkaku's head, giggling at their muttered curses and vows of revenge upon the little pink-haired bitch. But eventually they calmed, and Yachiru, with the all the wisdom and authority only a child could muster, said, "Why must I explain everything? It doesn't matter, stupid-heads!"

She then proceeded to hop off of Baldy-chan's head and gone to chase hell butterflies, leaving two stunned lieutenants, one sparkling fifth-seat, one smirking woman, one scowling third-seat, and one snickering captain in her wake.


	11. Dismissal

**Title:** Dismissal

**Word Count: **324

**Rating: **PG

**Characters: **Ichimaru Gin, Matsumoto Rangiku; mentioned Hitsugaya Toshirou

**Warnings: **Mentioned alcoholism, mentioned sex

**Summary: **She didn't realize that she was being dismissed.

**A/N: **Okay, so this is the first time I've ever tried to write any of the three characters mentioned in this little fic, so I hope they're up to standards. I'm not sure whether or not Matsumoto was in Aizen's division with Gin, so for all effects and purposes of this work of fanfiction, she was. As usual, if anyone notices any flaws or OOCness, please don't hesitate to write a scathing review telling me just how horrible it was.

* * *

Her captain told her frequently that alcohol would be her downfall. She, in turn, frequently told him that he could not make comments about her sake intake until he could do so without having to look up. 

Unfortunately, however, not all things were so easily dismissed. Because really, she had not started drinking until nearly fifty years after graduation. Not until she had finally been transferred.

It was strange, not having Gin around, especially when fighting. Their ability to work together had been well noted by Aizen-taichou and they were almost always in the same squad. She felt almost incomplete without the knowledge that Shinsou and his wielder would be there to watch her back.

Other things were different as well. When previously they would go out together after a mission, she found herself more and more frequently drinking alone after a particularly taxing day. But even then he would be there, often saving her from doing very stupid things in seedy bars in the slums. Despite this, however, she felt the distance widening, knew instinctively that Haineko and Shinsou no longer shared the same domain, that she had her ash cat were being removed from their place in his life.

And she understood this, knew that it would happen to them, just as it did to so many others. So she did not fight the inevitable, did not attempt the impossible, and in doing so, allowed herself to be dismissed by the most important person in her life. She did not realize just what she had done until his final exodus, when he said, "If only you had just held on a little longer."

But when the realization did dawn, the knowledge that maybe she could have stopped him came crashing down. When it did, the consequences were disastrous.

Yes, when she fell, just as she had before, she fell hard. This time, however, there was no one there to cushion the landing.


	12. Flawless

**Title: **Flawless

**Rating: **PG

**Word Count: **264

**Characters: **Kuchiki Rukia, Shiba Kaien, mentioned Shiba Miyako

**Warnings: **Spoilers for the SS arc backstory, rampant speculation, Miyako bashing

**Summary:** Perfection is an illusion.

**A/N: **So I'm a big fan of KaienxRukia, and I don't really like Miyako. She's just too good to be true, you know? Sort of like Aizen. Which got me thinking about the Hollow that killed them, and I was like, "Wait...How can I link Miyako and Aizen and somehow turn this into a KaienxRukia fic?" The whole "forbidden fruit" thing came from sharing an apple with my sister.

* * *

He never quite understood why they were the forbidden fruit. Apples were nourishing, the perfect blend of tart and sweet, not to mention the ideal snack.

Perhaps that was why they were forbidden. They were just too perfect.

Kaien knew better than most that perfection was not a reality. Perfection, when it happened, was the result of hard work, blood, sweat, and exhaustion. If it happened.

Miyako was, in his eyes, perfect. She was sweet, kind, beautiful, and talented. Everyone agreed that he was lucky to have her. But he couldn't help but wonder why such a goddess would choose him. It made no sense.

He finally understood when Kuukaku informed him, rather spitefully, that Miyako was sleeping with Aizen-taichou.

He wasn't surprised. Actually, he was a bit relieved. But it still hurt to know that she, who had chosen him despite his flaws, was with the male incarnation of perfection.

Then he met someone else. But if Miyako was an apple, Rukia was a lemon. She wasn't particularly beautiful, or sweet, or kind, but she was undeniably talented, even if her brother refused to allow that talent to be given proper acknowledgment.

But she knew that she was flawed, and admitted her weaknesses, often to the extent of belittling herself. She was approachable. She never remarked on his idiocy with scathing words designed to hurt. She had a temper; she saw him as a person, not the genius lieutenant from the noble house.

She was broken, bruised, and more than a little dusty. She was a lemon, harsh and bitter. She was perfect.


	13. The Stranger

**Title: **The Stranger

**Rating: **PG13

**Word Count: **475

**Characters: **Inoue Orihime, Ulquiorra

**Warnings: **Spoilers for the arrancar arc, mentions of sex and abuse

**Summary: **She wasn't sure what it was, but it certainly wasn't love.

**A/N: **I know nothing about Orihime's kidnapping. But I'm rather fond of Ulquiorra, and I think that they somehow compliment each other in a sick, twisted, cracked out way. The idea that Orihime asked Ulquiorra to sleep with her so that she would lose her virginity on her own terms comes from "Ascent Into Madness" by Genetix Chiquita (which is the story that actually got me interested in UlquiorraxHime), though that is the only thing. And please excuse my extensive grammatical abuse of commas and conjunctions, and any manga readers please tell me if there are any continuity blips or anything that I should know about. Again, I apologize for writing about something which I have no business writing about, and I normally don't do this, so please forgive this exception.

* * *

Orihime was fully aware of the fact that this...thing...that they had was in no way healthy on either the mental or physical levels. She knew that it needed to stop, knew that her friends were coming to get her, but somehow, she couldn't. 

It was especially odd, the fact that she had initiated the entire thing. It had started simply enough.

She was not stupid or clueless in any sense of either word, and she knew that her "gifts" often drew unwanted attention from the opposite sex. She, unlike several of her comrades, paid attention during psychology, and was fully aware of what sociopaths such as Aizen Sousuke and his underlings were capable of doing. Even at its best, it was horrible.

She wasn't sure why she asked, to be quite honest. But there was one thing she did know: she'd be damned if she was going to have anything forcibly taken from her. He wasn't Kurosaki-kun, but he wasn't Grimmjaw or Ichimaru, either, which was at least preferable. If anything was going to happen, she was determined that it would happen under her own terms.

She wasn't ready, but at least the discomfort was minimal, and, in a surprising display of emotion, when she cried afterwards, he held her until her tears subsided.

After that, things just became routine. When her so carefully hidden despair threatened to overwhelm her, he was there to provide a hold against the storm. When she felt her friends' reiatsu burst into Hueco Mundo, he was there to confirm, and it was he who assured her that Sado-kun was, in fact, alive.

Likewise, on the rare occasions when the idiocy of his bretheren became too much for him, she was the one to bring him back to his state of emotionlessness, to convince him that this entire ordeal was not pointless.

They could go for lengths of time without seeing each other, and often did. Theirs was not the kind of relationship where each was constantly in need of the other's presence. Rather, it was born of mutual necessity, and somehow turned into mutual trust.

She wasn't quite sure what it was, but it certainly wasn't love. Love was stolen glances, long conversations, walks on the beach, roses. Love was not bite marks and bruises and tears and fears and doubts and hurtful words.

Orihime might not have been sure what it was, but there was one thing of which she was positive. Even at his worst, as he watched mutely as she screamed in frustration and pain, even as he came night after night and made her hurt in places she didn't know she had, when all was said and done, Ulquiorra was there, the demon protecting his princess. And when her world came to an end, he would be there, just as he always was.


	14. Hindsight 2020

**Title:** Perfect Vision\

**Rating: **PG

**Word Count: **654

**Characters: **Hitsugaya Toushirou, Matsumoto Rangiku, mentioned Aizen Sousuke and Hinamori Momo

**Warnings: **Heavy spoilers for the Soul Society arc

**Summary: **Hindsight is always 20/20 A/N: Yay update! I'm sorry I've been neglecting this little collection, but school's been insane and you know how it is. So here's a bit of Tenth Division fluff for you. Hopefully I managed to stay true to all of the characters. But please do pardon the comma abuse and the excessive stream of consciousness rambling going on.

* * *

Hitsugaya Toushirou could have done a lot to change the way things turned out. The signs were there, when he thought back on it. He just didn't see them until it was already too late.

The hints had started small. More Hollow sightings than normal, training exercises gone wrong. And Aizen was always somehow there to save the day. He was careful, he covered his tracks. Then he slipped up.

The Shiba Kaien incident raised all sorts of questions. Why was there a Hollow in Soul Society to begin with? What were those strange powers it had? But Aizen was smart, deftly putting suspicion away from himself while managing to make Ukitake Juushirou look bad.

Besides, Hinamori always spoke so highly of her beloved Aizen-taichou. That was perhaps his second mistake. He grew busy with his work and training, and was loathe to disturb Hinamori when he knew she was doing the same. So he neglected their friendship, and in doing so, inadvertently increased her dependency on Aizen.

She flourished under his tutelage, and he was proud of her progress. Aizen was everything a captain should be: kind, patient, encouraging. But there was something behind the mildness that was always a bit unsettling, though he could never pinpoint exactly what it was.

His ultimate failure came with the ryoka incident. When she found Aizen's body, he should have been there. He should have seen something wrong when she attacked Kira. He should have had Matsumoto guard her instead of some useless green recruit. He should have put barriers up to keep her in as well as others out. He should have stayed with her, made sure she was okay. He should not have overestimated her mental stability.

There were so many "should haves" that he wanted to scream. But he didn't, because there were things that needed to be done and time did not afford him the luxury of a breakdown. He knew, however, that his emotions were a liability, and that they had to be taken care of.

So Matsumoto found him in his room, the entire place coated in ice. She had long ago become almost as used to the cold as he, but even she couldn't suppress a shiver as the coldness of the room washed over her when she entered. There was no telling how long he had been there. Time, like everything else, had frozen.

"Matsumoto," he said, his voice as raw and anguished as she had ever heard it.

"Just me," she confirmed. She crossed the room and took a seat on the floor a few feet away from him, back against the well.

They sat in silence; neither could have said how long they stayed like that. Finally, she spoke.

"I don't understand how you do it, Taichou."

He knew exactly what she was talking about, and replied, "I don't do anything, Matsumoto. You know that better than anyone."

She was quite for a while, then said, "You handled things much better than I did."

"No I didn't. And now I'm paying the price."

Matsumoto sighed and scooted closer to him, so that their arms were almost touching. "You know, I still feel like I could have stopped him if I had just held on a bit longer." He stiffened and the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees; she knew she had hit a nerve.

"He made his own choice," he replied tersely. "You couldn't have done anything about it."

She barely concealed a smile at his words. "I think you should take your own advice, ne, Taichou?" She made a great show of getting up and stretching, pretending not to notice the shocked expression on his face.

He recovered quickly enough, but she was at the still-frozen door before he could say anything. However, he couldn't help but smirk as her voice again reached his ears. "Ano, Taichou? Think you could let me out?"


	15. Star Crossed

**Title:** Star Crossed**  
Rating: **PG  
**Word Count: **744  
**Characters: **Kuchiki Rukia, Kurosaki Ichigo  
**Warnings: **Heavy, heavy spoilers for the Soul Society arc and all of its back story  
**Summary: **The only plausible explanation that she can come up with is that the wrong stars were crossed at the time of her birth.  
**A/N: **Prompt courtesy of William Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_, which is one of the best Shakespeare plays ever written, even if it is totally unoriginal and the entire concept is just a little bit ridiculous.

* * *

The fates had never smiled on her. The only thing she could think of was that the wrong stars had crossed when she was born. It was absurd, but everything was absurd at this point, and as such, it was the only plausible explanation with which she could come up.

They thought she was crazy, she knew, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Maybe she was. After all, if the rest of the world had gone mad, it made sense that she would go with it. But she was different from them. She recognized the madness, found it hilarious, even.

So she laughed at the irony of it all, that she had worked so hard to get where she was, only to have it stripped away for doing what she was trained to do. She still couldn't comprehend it sometimes. She would go to sleep and see his face, so like the other's, but so different, and she would wake up for a minute and think that she was still safe at home.

Because that's what it was. Her cramped space in his closet was more home than the huge room at her brother's. But once she had been up for a second, she would realize that she wasn't home, and that she was never going back.

She told herself that she did not have any regrets, but she was lying to herself. She regretted lots of things. She regretted not talking to him when she had the chance. She regretted not doing more to protect him from the inevitable.

But most of all, even worse than the regret, was her own self-loathing. She knew that he was there, that he had come to rescue her. She knew that he would probably die here. In that knowledge she was comforted, for she knew that if and when he died, she would not have to live with herself for long.

Despite all this, however, she couldn't stop the thrill of defeat that ran down her spine when she was moved to the Shrine of Penitence. She deserved to die, to have her soul obliterated from the world, and she knew this, but she found herself suddenly wanting to be saved, despite everything. She hated herself for it, too.

All of that changed when she finally saw him, when she watched her brother tear him to shreds for a second time. For while she wanted to be saved, he deserved life so much more than she, and she would not repeat the mistakes of her past.

But even though the fates frowned on her, they smiled on him, and somehow, he managed to save her with only minimal injuries to himself. And he wanted her to go back with him, but she couldn't yet because she wasn't good enough and he didn't deserve to be tainted by her presence. Somehow, he understood, and with several backward glances, went to make sure that her place would be ready when she did decide to come back.

When she did finally return, she wasn't ready yet. But she had noticed something during her time away: the nightmares were less violent, easier to deal with, in the safety of her (for it truly was hers now) closet. He accepted things without a single complaint, and if she didn't know better, she might even have thought that he was actually glad to see her.

And life went on as normal, with two huge differences. One was that she now had a group of friends who were willing to die for her, something she had never had before. The other was her situation with him.

Her nightmares were fewer and father in between now, but when they did come, they were far more severe than they had been previously. She would often wake up with tears on her cheeks, looking into a face that was his but not.

He understood this as well, as he did so many other things, and never pushed thee issue. After one particularly difficult night, he said nothing when she began crawling into bed with him, just to hear the steady beat of his heart proving her dreams false.

The fates had never smiled on her, which was true. But as his arm unconsciously wrapped itself around her, she knew that they smiled on him. And since she was the one for whom he smiled, she knew that her mixed up and crossed stars didn't matter.


	16. Broken Hallelujah

**Title: **Broken Hallelujah (What Once Was Lost)  
**Word Count: **654  
**Rating: **PG  
**Characters: **Hitsugaya Toushirou, Matsumoto Rangiku  
**Warnings: **Rampant speculation, spoilers for the Soul Society exodus, possible OOC  
**Summary: **Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah  
**A/N: **Dedicated to windlily and Alaena Night, because they're both amazingly supportive and always leave the nicest comments. I tried for crack. I really, truly did. But obviously the muses weren't cooperating, so we get a nice double-helping of angst. --;; Anyways, I'm not super happy with the way things turned out. It just seems outrageously OOC and disjointed.

* * *

They hadn't won. Not really. Winning implied glorious victory. There was nothing glorious about this conquest.

It was violent and bloody and ruthless and a whole host of other things. The list of adjectives for what they had done was infinite. Because yes, they had won, but they had also lost in the end.

They had been sorely outnumbered and outclassed on the battlefield. Off of it, they fought amongst themselves over what would be the best course of action. There was still too much resentment and distrust and hurt lingering for them to be truly effective together.

They had lost too many to count, the poor souls gone on to their next incarnation, bodies unceremoniously dumped into mass graves. Those unlucky enough to survive being captured often appeared on the battlefield once more as bloodthirsty monsters, eager to consume others in an attempt to fill their newfound emptiness. Occasionally, one of them might have retained enough presence of mind to beg a former comrade to end their misery.

Habits had been formed and lost: Hitsugaya-taichou started drinking; Matsumoto sobered. Kyouraku-taichou and Ukitake-taichou had gone out with a bang—literally. Komamura-taichou had died at the hands of his former best friend; Tousen had then been promptly taken out by Hisagi-fukutaichou and one Ayasekawa Yumichika.

Ichimaru Gin had, to everyone's surprise except perhaps Hitsugaya's, been taken out by Matsumoto, and Yamamoto had completely and thoroughly destroyed Aizen, though at a price.

And now, nearly a month later, what remained of the wrecked Gotei-13 was left to try and put themselves back together. So far, it wasn't working. Upon returning to Seireitei, the suicide rate had reached unparalleled new heights.

And so Hitsugaya found himself sitting outside the remains of the Tenth Division headquarters with his vice-captain, thinking that, in the end, Aizen had gotten what he wanted. Hinamori had finally died, blissfully sleeping through the hell that was currently Soul Society, and nobody seemed able to pull themselves together enough to try and rebuild.

He looked over at his once bubbly and cheerful lieutenant and remembered how he used to wish that she would just shut up and work for a change. He remembered the simple joy she used to get out of trying to drown him in her chest. He remembered how her snores had taken on an almost musical quality as they drifted up from the now-decimated couch that used to reside in their office. He remembered…

"Taichou?" she said, her voice breaking through his musings.

"Aa," he replied.

She was quite for a minute more, then, "Things aren't ever going to get better, are they." It wasn't a question, but a cold statement of fact.

"No, Matsumoto. I don't think they will. At least not for a very long time."

She nodded and he poured himself some sake. She leaned back on her elbows. "You don't drink for drinking's sake." Another statement of fact.

A beat. Another sip.

"Neither did you."

"Valid point. But you don't get drunk."

"I couldn't afford to get drunk. I didn't particularly deserve the luxury, either."

"No." She didn't try to comfort him, explain that he had done nothing wrong, that he was as blameless as anybody. She knew he wasn't. Nobody was blameless.

He offered the bottle to her and she surprised him by taking a swig, the old, fun-loving, alcoholic Matsumoto shining through for the briefest of instances.

On impulse, he reached out and grabbed her hand. She tensed at the touch, a reflex all of the remaining seated officers retained and would, in all likelihood, never lose. Then she relaxed and allowed a laugh to escape her.

Because while they had won, they had lost as well. Despite everything, though, they could be fixed. And they could utter their broken Hallelujahs and know that though it was broken, it was audible, and, if given time, it might eventually sound clearly through still morning air.

* * *

**A/N: **Rest in Peace to all those lost in the Virginia Tech massacre. Please keep them and their families in your thoughts and prayers. 


	17. Dark Blue

**Title: **Dark Blue  
**Word Count: **459  
**Rating: **PG-15  
**Characters: **Inoue Orihime,?  
**Warnings: **Language, probable OOC, but no real spoilers  
**Summary: **She was a sun, slowly lost with the perfect shade of dark blue.  
**A/N: **I don't know who the guy is. It's like a mix of IshiHime, GrimmHime, and UlquiHime. I don't know. The male character kind of mutates as the story goes along, but I'm pretty sure it's Grimmjow for the most part --;;. And the funny thing is that this started out as an IchiRuki concept for loneliness. I suppose my muse had other ideas, though. Inspiration and recommended listening are Dark Blue, by Jack's Mannequin. If you listen to it, it might make slightly more sense. Maybe. Please feel free to shoot me dead.

* * *

He hated dusk. It was too idyllic, too happy. Almost as if all of the world's problems would go away, disappearing into the endless blue. But he didn't buy into the fairy tale bullshit. He knew the reality better than most; after all, he was one of aforementioned problems and he had yet to go away. 

But there was something about the heavens, that strange, beautiful, perfect shade of indigo, that pissed him off. The perfectly symmetrical smattering of silver stars made him want to blast a hole in the fucking sky. He didn't think that anything would come along and piss him off as much as that one sight did. Ever. He was wrong.

She was infuriating. All sunny smiles and incessant chatter, which was not, as far as he was concerned, proper conduct for the victim of one of the most notorious kidnappings in history. And how the hell was she so happy all the time? It wasn't right, and it certainly wasn't normal.

She was strong, but at the same time, very fragile. He was told at least five times a day to be careful with the little princess. After all, it simply wouldn't do for him to damage the master's favorite toy.

He wanted to break her.

And God knows he tried. He tried everything he knew. And it worked; she wanted to be broken. That fact did take some of the fun out of it, to be sure, but he just couldn't bring himself to stop. Not that she helped…

Slowly, the light drained from her eyes. The smiles lost their warmth and generosity. The chatter ceased; she now spoke only when necessary. Everything in her world was black. She had once been a single source of light, and had now herself sunk into darkness.

Now that she was broken, he found himself wanting to fix her. Yeah, she had annoyed the hell of him, but at least she had been alive, not some empty shell. And somehow, she had made him feel alive as well, made him feel something beyond the hollowness that gave his kind their name.

One night, she asked him where the sun was. _It's right in front of me_, he thought. He didn't know what to say.

She looked so lost, drifting in a sea of emotionlessness and feelings that he couldn't even begin to fathom. So he did the only thing he could: he gave her something to hold, a rock to latch onto during the storms that threatened to take her away forever.

He held onto his sunshine and wished, for her sake, that just once, that god-awful, perfect shade of dark blue would return, just once, so that she could lose her problems with the world's.


	18. Liar, Liar

**Title: **Liar, Liar  
**Rating: **PG  
**Word Count: **421  
**Warnings: **None that I can think of  
**Characters: **Kurosaki Ichigo, mentioned Kuchiki Rukia, Shibata Yuuichi, Yasutora Sado  
**Summary: **Ichigo hated liars.  
**A/N: **Inspired by an episode of Ghost Whisperer, set right after the gang meets with Yuuichi (the jinxed cockatiel Chad rescued) and they find out that he still hasn't found his mother. Sorry for the insanely long delay in updating. Writer's block, school, summer vacation, and other projects have made take the backburner, but now I'm back. Enjoy!!

* * *

"_So hurry up and go to heaven." _

He lied to that little boy. Blatantly, shamelessly lied to that gullible little kid inside Chad's talking parakeet. And he hadn't even known that he was lying.

How many others had he lied to? How many innocent souls had he told of heaven and its amazingness? He didn't remember the exact number, but he knew it must have been a lot.

He had been a liar since he was nine years old and had told his sisters that their mother was in a better place.

It made him sick. Above almost anything else, he prided himself on his honesty (when being honest actually mattered). Just because he hadn't known he was lying at the time didn't change the fact that he had.

Because things didn't change or get better after souls passed, and he told them it would. Because he was a liar, and because quite often, usually, even, things got worse.

That those who remembered him did not blame him for his lies only made the guilt increase. Didn't thy know that their hopes for a better afterlife had been crushed because he had given them hope to begin with? Didn't they know that they should hate him?

He couldn't stand their acceptance. First they accepted his lies and then they accepted their misery.

He didn't know who he hated more: them or himself.

He didn't know anything abouot anything. He was just some idealistic kid whose mentor hadn't had the heart to tell him that every word he spoke to those people was a lie and that someday, he would have to tell those same lies to his father, his sisters, because he didn't want to tell them the truth. Because he couldn't bring himself to say that their hope was pointless.

He was lying to himself right now, even. He was telling himself that they would make it through, that she was going to be fine. That he wouldn't get there just in time to watch her execution.

Yeah, he hated liars. But for her, he could make an exception.

For her, he would tell anyone anything, even himself. He would lie through his teeth just to see her eyes soften at the gullible face of a little boy as he said that the kid's mom would be waiting for him in heaven.

For her, he would lie to himself. But the idealistic kid he was still shone through sometimes, and above everything, he hoped that his lies were the truth.


	19. Story of My Life

**Title: **Story of My Life  
**Word Count: **309  
**Characters: **Not telling :)  
**Warnings:** None  
**Summary:** Their lives are full of stories.  
**A/N: **Sooo...Six month hiatus, and the first thing you get is a midget. Sorry everyone, but I've had some monster writer's block lately. Anyways, I don't specify pairings for a reason, but you should be able to figure it out if you're anywhere near familiar with Bleach. Dedicated to Francie, who's a good sport about my obsession. Oh, and pardon the craptasticness. It was written in spurts of spurtiness, I guess, and as such isn't very coherent.

* * *

Her life is full of stories. None are of living, for she had been born into Death, but she does have stories. Some are of herself, some of her division, most of her friends, and one of a betrayal so deep it still hurts after such a long time that she has lost count of the years. She doesn't tell that story. 

She tells stories of a brother, a sister, a noble, a genius, and a warrior. Her stories are of fireworks and sake and swords, and one of a tiny, sparkling jewel that proved to be the end of her existence.

Her stories are told freely, as lessons, or warnings, or antidepressants when the liquor isn't strong enough. They are often amusing, even if their subject matter is not. She becomes her stories as she tells them, but she is not her stories.

* * *

His life is full of facts. He has no time, or patience, for fiction, and no use for memories of times gone by. Stories cause nothing but pain, hurtful reminders of home and the life they could never return to. He avoids them at all costs, and when they are told, anyone who watches closely can see that he is not paying attention, and his eyes are ever so slightly out of focus.

This aversion, once a theory, has been tested so many times that it has become a Law. But again, those that observe closely will see the exception to this Law.

When she speaks, it is like music to him. He listens to her voice with such intensity it is as though he fears that she will leave, so he must memorize every sound that comes from her mouth. When she speaks, the shadow of guilt leaves his eyes, the hauntedness leaves his features.

He has only one story, and she is it.

* * *

**A/N: **Can someone please explain to me WHY I can't have proper break instead of the tacky line? 


End file.
